After the party

I got off work early so I could go to the grocery store on the way home to Buenos Aires. The rest of the afternoon was spent cooking, cleaning and preparing things for my guests because, in a moment of enthusiasm; she had suggested that I would host this year's group birthday party.

Among my little gang, there were five people who, by chance, were born in January. Over the years, the "January party" had become something of a tradition; a chance to celebrate, catch up, and (most of all) eat a lot and drink a cocktail, or six.

As I chopped the cheese and served the olives in small bowls, I felt good, to the rhythm of the music that was playing on the radio; no matter how much work an event like this involves, it can also be a lot of fun. I continued with my preparations until I heard the door open: my husband was coming home from work.

"Hi, honey, I'm sorry." I haven't been able to go out before, ”he said as he entered the kitchen, taking off his jacket.

-Do not worry. I think I've got you covered, ”I replied.

He came up behind me and his hand slipped past me to grab a chunk of red pepper from the cutting board. "Yes, I sure do." And you're also very pretty, ”he added, pulling the tie of the apron on the small of my back.

I rolled my eyes over my shoulder. "Yeah yeah, keep 50s housewife fantasies to a male minimum," I laughed.

"Okay, you're not pretty," he replied. "You are fucking sexy." And I'm going to spend the whole party thinking about all the dirty and disgusting things I'm going to do to you as soon as they all leave.

The words produced an instant reaction: my face flushed, my heart rate quickened, a deep pain settled in my belly, and a low hum shot up between my legs.

I bent my hips back toward him, pushing into his groin, and felt his erection pressing against me. "Careful," he said. "Or I'll do those gross, dirty things to you right now, and you'll be naked when the guests arrive."

"Oh yeah?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

"No minced red peppers," he added, stealing another piece and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Good point," I replied. "But we have an appointment later." When we're alone I'll become famous escort from Buenos Aires—.

He smiled at me. “Do we have to be totally alone?” I glance at him over my shoulder, taken by surprise. But when I saw the evil gleam in his eyes, I knew exactly what he meant.

A couple of weeks ago, we had attended his office Christmas party. I'd had too many glasses of wine, which is easy to do when you're the weird woman. Being "The Wife" at a Christmas party can be quite a heartbreaking event, hence all the wine.

Later, in the taxi, I was so uninhibited that I began to whisper things about what we could do when we got home. A sudden flash of inspiration (or intoxication) led me to suggest that it was a shame there was no one else with us, that a "third party" might be fun.

Although the idea of ​​a threesome with another man was something I habitually fantasized about on my own, I had never mentioned it to him. I guess I figured it would hurt his feelings, implying that he wasn't enough. He was more than enough. But even so, he had more than once dreamed of one of his friends joining us for the night.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I shouldn't have cared so much about offending him. I was excited. Very excited. "Like who?" He said. - Anyone we know? -

Emboldened by his enthusiasm and the wine-induced bravado, I smiled. - Maybe Mitch? - 

Mitch was her roommate in college and her best friend. Everything my husband was, Mitch was the opposite: blond instead of dark, stocky and muscular instead of long and thin, quiet and shy instead of the party clown.

And Mitch had starred in most of my threesome fantasies. "Really?" He said, his eyebrows raised.

-Yes. Of course. Would you like that?-

-Yes. Maybe. I do not know. That's really… hot. Shit-.

When the taxi finally dropped us off at home, we barely got inside: he was on top of me before the door closed. We fuck on the hall carpet until we are completely exhausted, we go ahead to the shower together. My husband was passionate, but this was a “new relationship” level fuck: intense, fast, hard. And fantastic.

It was clear that the concept of a threesome turned him on just as much as it had secretly turned me on for months. Since that night, I'd mentioned it casually a few times, jokingly, gauging my reaction. I always smiled, blushed, and shrugged.

But to be honest, the fact that it turned him on so much, and that he was obviously still thinking about it, had fueled some serious fantasies of — us plus Mitch — lately. So I knew exactly what he meant: what if someone stayed after, at the end of the party? I cut again and felt him lean behind me, his head next to mine.

"I want to," he whispered in my ear. -I want with you. See it with you.

He did not wait for an answer. He stepped back and, at normal volume, said, "Okay, tell me what to do." Set the table? Looking for candles? What is my job, ma'am? I laughed, listed a to-do list, and left.

Less than an hour later, there was a knock on the door for the first time. Soon after, everyone had arrived. The next few hours were chaos. We were barely able to seat the entire group at the dining room table, and we ate side by side. When I brought out the cake, we made all the birthday girls stand up while we screamed "happy birthday"

Everyone cheered and clapped as we tried to blow out the candles as a group. It was fun.

However, as the evening progressed, she couldn't help but be ultra aware of Mitch. I was sure it was my overactive imagination triggered by the conversation I'd had with my husband before the party, but it seemed like he was being especially attentive to me. When we made eye contact, it lasted longer than it should have, and more than once I caught his eyes roaming my neck and breasts.

The attention - real or imagined - made me nervous, but it also turned me on. I couldn't wait for everyone to leave so my husband and I could go to bed. But it was not yet time to do so. There was still a hostess to play. We huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches or on the floor around the coffee table, and a round of Cards Against Humanity made us roar.

Halfway through the game, I jumped up and announced that I was going to make another round of margaritas.

"Who needs one?" Hands went up everywhere and I quickly did a count. "Okay, on it," I said, and left the room.

In the kitchen, I rinsed the mixer from the previous round and added new ingredients. I was startled more than I should when I heard Mitch's voice right behind me. "I didn't raise my hand, too late to get one?" I laughed.

"No, I think I can get one more."

"Thank you," he said.

-No problem-.

We went back to the living room. I noticed that my husband was watching me from across the room. I was smiling. I refused to make eye contact, because I knew this offer to "stay behind" was not a coincidence. Two by two, our guests left, until only Mitch, my husband, two of the birthday girls, and me were left.

I was nervous and anxious, not knowing what was going to happen. Was I imagining the looks and the smiles? Had I over-interpreted Mitch's comments in the kitchen about staying after, just because of my husband's teasing beforehand?

I was barely following the conversation and desperately wanted my friends to leave and was grateful for the delay they were giving me. Finally my husband got up from his spot on the carpet, stretched out his arms and said, "Mitch, buddy, I hate to ask you so late, but would you mind taking a look at that breaker in the basement?"

-There is no problem my friend. Let's check it out, ”Mitch replied, standing up and doing the same stretch. I noticed her t-shirt lifting up in front of her belly, briefly revealing her bare skin, and the patch of dark hair on her abdomen above her belted pants.

My stomach dropped and I felt my mouth go dry. All he could think about was what he might find behind the pants, if he got the chance. As the men descended the stairs, the talk continued between the girls. I tried to jump into the conversation here and there, but the thought of Mitch and my husband down in the basement, potentially waiting for me, kept scattering my brain.

I wanted this. The thought came to me quickly and with certainty: I wanted Mitch. I loved my husband. At the same time. Tonight. I could feel the wetness between my legs, my panties were damp under the skirt. I raised my arms and yawned.

"Oh man, I'm clean," I said dreamily.

It had the exact effect I was hoping for. The girls looked at me, noticed my yawn, and agreed: it was late and it was probably time to go to sleep. "Thanks for coming," I said, hugging them both in the hall.

Once they were gone, I closed the door, bolted it, and put the chain in place. I screamed down the basement stairs. "I'm going to start cleaning."

I heard a vague acknowledgment from below, but they did indeed seem to be discussing the electrical wiring problem. Mitch was grumbling about the sloppy work of the previous owners, who — from what I could hear — had taken several shortcuts on site.

Maybe he was staying to help with the wiring? I shrugged and headed for the kitchen, trying to ignore the little jolt of disappointment I felt. "It's probably for the best," I told myself.

A threesome? With my husband and his best friend? What was I thinking? I started filling the sink with water. Finally, I heard the boys go back upstairs to the main floor, and a moment later the bathroom door from the hallway clicked shut.

My husband called me from the other room. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and went back to the living room. He was sitting on the couch. Mitch must be in the bathroom. Getting ready to leave, obviously. Another blow of disappointment. But I still smiled at my husband.

"Come here," he said.

I approached him and sat next to him obeying. He leaned in and kissed me. "It's been a great party," he said.

-Thanks. Not bad, if I say so. There's a lot to clean up though, ”I said, looking at the mess in the room.

-It can wait-. He leaned in again, kissing me harder this time. My hand came up to his lap, and I could feel his cock harden behind his pants. "Fuck, I've been thinking about this all night," he said, and his mouth moved closer to mine again, his tongue pushing against my lips.

"Me too," I said. Just as his hand slid up my thigh under the hem of my skirt, I heard the bathroom lock click and the door slid open.

Mitch. Smiled. "Don't let it stop you," he said. For a few long seconds, the three of us stopped, staring at each other, and then Mitch walked to the door. "Well," he began. I steeled myself. It's now or never. "Don't go," I said. -Not yet-.

He stopped, looked at me, his eyes darkened, his lids lowered.

"Sure?" I gasped and felt unable to say another word. But I managed to get two:

-Yes. Much-. He moved quickly to sit on the other side of me. His hand came down quickly on my other thigh, so that it would all start before I could scare myself and change my mind.

Both of my thighs were being caressed by a different man. It was exactly what he had imagined so many times. I felt my pussy flood, a veritable torrent of moisture as my arousal soared.

As if sensing it, Mitch's hand slowly moved up to the hem of my panties. He pushed them away and ran his fingertips across my pussy lips.

"Christ almighty," he breathed out.

My husband leaned toward me again and brought his mouth close to mine again. As I closed my eyes and felt his lips on me, I was acutely aware of every move to the other side: Mitch slid off the couch, pushed aside the coffee table, and knelt in front of me. His hand was pushing on one knee and, simultaneously, my husband's hand was grasping the other, opening me wide.

Mitch leaned forward, tucking his head between my thighs. His tongue came out hot, wet, and slick against my pussy. I groaned and squirmed, hips curled up. His arms encircled my upper thighs and he pulled me to him. My butt hung just above the edge of the couch.

The move allowed him better access and he took advantage of it. His whole mouth moved over my pussy. I squirmed and moaned as his tongue licked at me, and I pulled into him.

I felt the front of the dress push me and the familiar sensation of my husband's mouth closing on one of my nipples through the bra. His teeth gently pinched my nipple and I screamed. He pulled the front of the bra down, gathering the fabric under my breasts, and exposed me to his mouth and hands.

As he licked and sucked my tits, Mitch was still downstairs. After a few more minutes, I felt his finger slide slowly inside me, and his tongue continued on my clit. It was too much, and I began to gasp, to curse, to beg.

"Fuck, fuck, please, fuck, oh God, fuck, please, please, PLEASE," I groaned.

He complied, moving faster, harder, his mouth on my clit, a second finger joining the first, thicker and rougher inside me.

-I am going to run. I'm going to come, I'm going to come. I exhaled in a hoarse whisper.

He gripped my thighs tighter, his arms still looped around them, like he wanted to hold me in place until he had come. In a matter of seconds, I came hard. A cry escaped me as my husband sucked harder on one breast and squeezed the other hard.

"Oh God, oh dear, oh my God," I said, the orgasm still shuddering through me.

Mitch straightened, leaned over me, and kissed me hard. My husband had never done this: kiss me with the taste of my own pussy on his lips. Although I was still recovering from my orgasm, the only thing I could think of was more.

It's like they can read my mind. They both unzipped their pants at the same time, yanking them off, exposing their twin erections.

Like everything else about them, here too they were different. Mitch's penis was shorter, much thicker, and completely shaved. On her knees, she was inches from my pussy. I squirmed involuntarily, desperate for it to be inside me.

He rummaged through his discarded jeans again, found a condom in his pocket, opened the package, and put it on.

Watching him was hypnotic, and I realized that I wasn't the only one thinking like this: my husband's attention was riveted on the scene, his eyes shifting from my naked pussy to Mitch's penis. It was clear that I did not have to worry: his penis was extremely hard and his breathing was rapid and ragged.

"Fuck," I heard him whisper next to me.

Mitch looked at me, his hand slowly stroking his sheathed penis, and asked with his eyes, is he okay? I nodded and brought my hands closer to him, one tugging on his shoulder and the other on his chest. Her hard nipple tickled the palm of my hand.

"Mitch…" I said breathlessly, my eyes half closed. He leaned forward and the head of his cock slid between my pussy lips. My head fell back.

"It feels so good, oh God, it feels so good," I groaned.

The thickness of his cock was immediately apparent when he inserted it, stretching me a little more than I was used to.

The three of us looked at the entry point. After a moment, my husband lowered his hand and his fingertips connected to my clit, and began a slow rhythmic circle as Mitch slid deeper and deeper into me.

My husband leaned into my ear, his voice deep and husky. "Fuck, baby." You're so fucking hot right now, oh my god, ”he said. His words brought me back to reality and I reached over to take his hard cock in my hand. I stroked her up and down with a loose grip as Mitch began a slow, steady motion of his own stroking, in and out of my wet pussy.

"I want your penis in my mouth," I said hastily to my husband.

He didn't hesitate: he got down on his knees on the couch next to me. Leaning back with my hips on the edge of the couch, his kneeling position brought him the perfect height above me. His warm, hard length slid over my lips, and my tongue traced the head of his cock.

They both penetrated me at almost identical speed: Mitch was fucking my pussy while my husband was doing it in my mouth. The feeling was incredible, but the idea was even better. I felt like my brain was going to explode before my pussy. As if a mental orgasm was about to occur before my body reached any kind of physical climax.

Mitch grabbed my hips, prying. At the same time, my husband's hand encircled the back of my head. With my mouth full, I couldn't help but moan. But in my head, I heard a constant stream of unspoken curses.

I could tell from their movements that they were both getting closer, and I reached down to rub my fingertips over my clit. When Mitch started to hit harder, I felt like I was getting closer to the brink of a massive release.

The shock of my shattering orgasm hit them both in the same way. In quick succession, Mitch growled that he was going to come and buried himself deep inside me; my husband, panting, withdrew from my mouth and stroked himself until he came on my bare chest.

Another novelty: never had. Clearly, we were creating new rules. Watching him do it made me feel like I was going to come again, and I was surprised by the redoubling of my desire.

I wanted both of them. Again. Right now. We were breathing hard, shaking. Mitch swayed as he slowly pulled away from me. "Oh my God," I said.

-That was…

"Yes," my husband said, surprise in his voice.

-Shit-. Mitch leaned back on his heels and smiled at me.

"That was great," he said, and gave a short laugh. His laugh eased the moment, and I put my hands to my face, amused, happy and a little shy: legs spread, pussy still sore.

"Again?" I said, smiling.

"Yes, definitely," Mitch replied. -In five minutes-.

"I think I need ten." At least, ”my husband said.

"Okay, if I have to wait," I said, smiling.

"So how about ... double penetration?" My husband's eyebrows shot up, and Mitch smirked.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," he said. One by one, they both leaned forward. As they took turns kissing me, I was already counting down the seconds to the second round.

End

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